


elementalist

by fcldspar



Category: South Park
Genre: Canon Compliant, Craig just needs some hugs, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Thunderstorms, Tweek’s a good boyfriend, and he gets them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 03:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15855648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fcldspar/pseuds/fcldspar
Summary: a thunderstorm arrives, a rare event for south park: tweek is delighted, but craig? not so much.





	elementalist

**Author's Note:**

> this was based off various headcanons on tumblr based around tweek loving thunderstorms and/or craig hating them. i eventually gave up on trying to have a plot with some sort of moral in favour of self-indulgent fluff, so i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!!

“ _This is closed-circuit television for South Park Elementary School. And now,_ ” a dramatic fanfare fired, “ _time for the_ Sexy Action School News!”

“Babe, what are you wat-- oh you’ve _gotta_ be kidding me, those asshats still air that crap?” Craig demanded as he walked into the tech room to see Tweek sat in front of the TV.

“Yep, ‘though since last October they’ve been forced to tone it down a notch,” Tweek said as fireworks exploded on-screen while a curvy silhouette leaned across the lettering.

“Jesus fuck,” Craig muttered as he sat next to his boyfriend. “You’re fraternising with the enemy by watching this.”

“I can’t fraternise with the enemy if there’s no longer a competition,” Tweek replied with a cheeky grin. “How did your testical removal surgery go?”

Craig cuffed him upside the head. “Dad was so pissed when he heard that I’d spent all my allowance just to film animals.”

“Did he threaten to actually take you for surgery, or...?”

“Nah, he said that I didn’t need a removal surgery for something I didn’t have to begin with.”

Tweek looked Craig over. His voice and facial expression remained neutral as always, but he wasn’t quite meeting his eyes either. Instead he was staring at the exaggerated flashing lights of the TV, looking but not seeing.

“Hey,” Tweek nudged his shoulder, “you could always start it up again, I’m sure your dad would be better about it this time ‘round.”

Craig snorted, but his mouth quirked up. “Nah, we had to sell the camera on eBay. Besides I’ve got other shit to worry about, namely my boyfriend being overworked on unpaid labour by his own parents.”

“That’s why I’m watching this, _purely for your benefit_ to see if I can get away with staying at home tonight so you can go do your show again without a worry in the world,” Tweek quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Craig rolled his eyes. “No but really, why are you watching this?”

“Mom and Dad told me to catch the bus home if there’s a blizzard tonight, so I do actually wanna see what the forecast is.”

“But this show’s gay.”

“ _You’re_ gay.”

Craig rolled his eyes again but smiled, as Cartman’s familiar twangy voice announced, “And now here’s Token Black with the weather! Not exactly ice cream weather is it, Token?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t advise going out for Friday sundaes tonight, folks, as a _thunderstorm_ is due to hit at around three this afternoon and is expected to last for most of the evening!” Token replied, his smile at the camera practically screaming for help almost as much as his unnaturally deeper voice.

“Dude, the fuck happened to Token?” asked Craig, unimpressed.

“Whenever Cartman’s involved expect Token to suffer,” replied Tweek by instinct, but his mind was elsewhere.

A freaking _thunderstorm_ was coming! He could already picture the thunder crashing like a giant above the clouds, the electricity and life in the air as hailstones battered angrily against the corrugated iron roofs. And, most importantly, the rain unleashing its fury while he sat safely inside the heated bus as it winded its way across the snowy hillsides to take him home.

 

The fucking bus was shut down.

“Sorry kids, but the roads are gonna be too slippery with the combination of rain, hail and snow, I’m not allowed to drive under those conditions,” explained the driver with a pained expression. The crowd of kids responded with a unified “ _awwwwwwww_ ” before scattering in different directions.

Tweek turned to Craig. “You heading home or do you have detention?”

“Heading home, thank god,” was his reply. Without a word Tweek grabbed his hand and started pulling him in the direction of the South Park suburbs.

They walked hand in hand along the icy sidewalk in silence, content with just each other’s presence. Dark clouds were quickly gathering near the distant mountain tops, flashes of light and ominous rumbles already to be seen and heard. At one particularly loud _boom_ ringing across the valley Tweek jumped and yelled “ _Jesus Christ!_ ” while clasping Craig’s hand so tightly that the poor boy winced and jumped a bit himself.

But Tweek loved this. He loved every second of the build-up, the build-up of fear, of tension, _hell_ even that of the curtain of darkness now beginning to roll down the hillsides.

Craig, on the other hand, kept eyeing the mountains with what Tweek knew was supposed to _appear_ to be merely wariness. But the narrowed eyes, stone-faced expression, stiff shoulders said more than what most could translate.

“Hey.” He squeezed the other’s hand gently. “You good?”

“All good,” replied Craig curtly.

“ _Oi_.” Tweek tugged at his boyfriend’s arm to pull him to a stop on the pavement. He dropped their hands to manhandle Craig so they were facing each other, green eyes facing down to blue-green. “What’s up?”

Communication was still a process in development for them. Having gone through the presidential Twitter wars, then not long afterwards Mackey’s couple’s therapy during Cartman’s stupid game, they had grown a greater appreciation for the importance of talking through their feelings, however small or seemingly insignificant.

Tweek knew what answer he sought from Craig’s behaviour, however he wanted to hear it in Craig’s own words.

Easier said than done. “Babe, seriously, I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yup, I’m sure,” he informed. A little too quickly.

They walked in silence for a while longer, Craig’s walking becoming more wooden as the distant storm continued to grow and crawl closer. He did, however, grasp back when Tweek took his hand again and soothed his thumb over its back, which Tweek took as a good sign.

He tried for a different approach.

“At least Token wasn’t wrong ‘bout the weather,” he observed in faux casualness.

“Mm-hm,” Craig replied curtly, keeping his eyes ahead.

Another great _boom_ rung across the valley, but this time Tweek had seen the flashing light that had preceded. Craig wasn’t so lucky.

“ _AGH_ ,” he groaned, jolting suddenly in his fright. Tweek held on tightly around his waist to steady him, which Craig unhesitantly reciprocated. Even once steady they continued to stand there with their arms wrapped around each other, Craig’s face buried in Tweek’s unwieldy hair. If in doubt, a good hug was never unwelcome by either.

“Will it be too much f’you? Th’ storm, I mean,” asked Tweek, his voice muffled against Craig’s chest, right by the rapid beating of his heart. Asking Craig if he was frightened, unnerved, scared by anything at any time was unlikely to yield results, but Tweek knew Craig. He knew certain things were simply too much for him, things which he had a little less shame in admitting to — at least to Tweek. Loud noises overlapping one another, unnecessary disruptions or occurrences, anything illogical or irrational or out of order.

“Ugh,” lowed Craig. “It’s fine. It’s just… really fucking chaotic.”

“ _I’m_ really fucking chao’ic, but y’don’t mind me,” retorted Tweek with a concealed grin, ever the smartass.

“The truth come out,” Craig replied, a smile evident in his voice. He held on tighter, and so did Tweek.

It was only when they could see the torrents of rain being unleashed from the impending gloom that they broke the hug and started to run.

 

“Fuck me, I’m dripping wet,” complained Craig as soon as both boys shoved themselves through his front door.

“That’s what s--“ started Tweek, before being interrupted by a much louder “THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!” from the top of the staircase, a familiar strawberry-blonde haired head poking through the banisters.

“FUCK OFF, TRICIA!” was Craig’s response while flipping the bird in her direction.

“INDOOR VOICES,” yelled another female voice from the kitchen. Craig flipped another bird with his other hand in that direction, dropping his soaking bag to the floor with a _crunch_.

Tricia took a moment to observe before whispering “ _That’s what she said_ ” with an evil smile then disappearing upstairs.

Craig rolled his eyes and dropped his hands. “Little-fucking-sisters.”

Tweek snickered. Craig looked pleased with himself.

He continued, “Do you wanna play a co-op game or something? You left the laptop here last time you stayed over.”

“Is the wi-fi working with the storm though?”

“Ugh. Let’s just go upstairs.”

Craig tronched up the stairs, for the most part ignoring his mother’s complaints about getting the carpet wet if not for pulling another middle finger, while Tweek entered the murky basement to retrieve Stripe. Down here the rumble of the thunder and the rapping of the rain on the roof were mostly muted, but every now and then the lights would falter and suspend them in darkness before relighting again.

By the time Tweek entered his boyfriend’s bedroom, carrying a growling Stripe against his shoulder and stroking him like a parent would hold and burp a baby, Craig had already changed into a particular pair of fluffy pyjamas, a pair which Tweek knew to be his dedicated comfort clothes. A second pair of equally fluffy pyjamas was visibly laid out on the bed, which having laid Stripe down on the soft duvet Tweek gladly swapped for his drenched button-up and jeans with Craig’s back turned.

It was onced changed that Tweek noticed the towel. “Craig! What the fuck is that?” he giggled.

Everything above Craig’s eyes was whipped up into a most immaculate towel swirl, giving his head the appearance of a dollop of whipped cream.

Craig pouted. “My hair was wet!”

Tweek just giggled harder, having to hold onto his stomach. He couldn’t help it, Craig looking like a chick straight out of a shampoo ad combined with his full-force pout was too much to handle.

Craig wasn’t having it. “Dude, you think _my_ hair is bad, look at _yours_!” It was then that he pulled a towel out of nowhere and lunged at Tweek, trying to wrap it around his head.

Tweek shrieked in surprise and hilarity. “You’re not getting that monstrosity on me!” he declared, wrestling with Craig’s arms.

But Craig had the advantages of height and near-daily football practice on his side, so when he wrapped his arms around Tweek’s waist, picked the boy up and carried him with minimal effort to the bed, there was little Tweek could do other than struggle. And struggle he did, even once laid on the bed with his arms and torso trapped under the weight of Craig’s body straddling his chest.

“ _Let go of me, you,_ gah, _asshole!_ ” he screeched, even as Craig lifted his head to finish wrapping the towel around his sopping wet hair. He tried to plead more, but between Craig’s weight on his chest pinning his airways and his unstoppable laughter he just couldn’t do it anymore. He collapsed back on the bed in resignation, still unable to control his laughter.

Craig was looking down at him with unmistakably soft eyes and the corners of his mouth quirked up. “You’re cute.”

Tweek stuck out his tongue at him, but he could already feel heat gathering on his cheeks.

“Not you, asshat, Stripe. God,” drawled Craig with an exaggerated eye-roll.

As if magically summoned, Tweek could hear soft purring by his left ear. He looked in that direction to see Stripe slowly crawling towards him, leaving the softest footfalls on the duvet as he approached.

The pressure on Tweek’s chest was relieved as Craig clambered off and snuggled up on Tweek’s right-hand side, lazily sprawling his arm across his boyfriend’s chest and resting his head on his shoulder. His towel, however, was stuffed right into Tweek’s face before Tweek realised what was happening. The tickle of it against his nose and the overpoweringly bad smell of cheap laundry detergent sent him into a combined coughing and sneezing spree, subsequently sending Craig into a fit of low “ _hehehehehe_ ”s. Tweek could feel his chortle-induced shaking all along where they were pressed together.

“What the _fuck_ was that laugh, dude?” asked Tweek once he’d recovered.

“Shut up,” replied Craig thickly.

Stripe had now progressed onto gently sniffing Tweek’s face, giving the occasional squeak of approval. Tweek turned his face both to allow for more access and to watch. He could feel Craig’s eyes on him.

The storm however, having been forgotten amidst the play-fighting, apparently was only just getting started.

Some of the winds wailed louder as if to moan in misery, whilst the others whistled harshly through the trees. The rain battered harder against the iron roof and window panes. Hailstones rammed all in their paths. The thunder grew in volume and intensity, ascending from mere groans to sharp _claps_ and crackles. Distant glints of lightning became blazes of all-consuming brightness, shining through the window to illuminate the boys for no more than a second before casting them into shadows again.

At one particularly close bolt, the light cast shone brighter than daylight before plunging them into almost complete darkness — a power cut. A blast of thunder followed almost immediately, resonating in Tweek’s very bones.

Tweek was alive. All the energy, all the sounds, all the pure life that was around him, all of this he felt connected to. Connected in a way he could not and would not ever try to comprehend or pick apart. He _felt_ the thrum of the vitality around him, he wasn’t just here to bear witness.

Craig, however, wasn’t doing so hot.

“FUCKING SHIT,” he yelled right into Tweek’s ear as he jumped from the same thunderclap, both his own jump and the sudden shout causing Tweek to jump with him.

Tweek’s ear was ringing and his heart was pounding but he was laughing, laughing at his glee about the storm’s excitement and at his poor boyfriend. Well, maybe not _at_ — Craig was laughing as well, but noticeably less surely than his boyfriend. What was also noticeable was the way he clung onto Tweek with both arms as if for dear life, and the way his face was buried in the crook of Tweek’s shoulder, his breathing sending tickles shooting up Tweek’s neck.

“Get off me, you buffoon,” exclaimed Tweek as he shuffled onto his side, disturbing Stripe — who gave an indignant shriek — but now able to face and look Craig in the eyes. And boy, was it good he could now based on the look on Craig’s face, stone-cold and unmoving but pupils shrunk to the size of a pinprick. Another might think it was merely his pissed-off expression, but Tweek knew more of Craig than most.

Craig replaced his arms around Tweek as soon as the latter had reshuffled, squeezing as tightly as he knew he could without causing his boyfriend pain or breathing problems. But even if he’d squeezed painfully tight Tweek wouldn’t have cared, Craig’s hugs were the best hugs and he knew that Craig wouldn’t seek reassurance of any sort unless he really needed it, which said a lot about him now.

Tweek cupped Craig’s cheeks in both hands and rested his forehead against his so they were touching. He looked into those familiar green eyes, at his familiar slender nose, at his familiar crooked teeth because his parents were still saving for braces. He looked at his boyfriend’s familiar face, then pulled it down to kiss his forehead, ignoring the smell of the nearby head-towel. “You’re okay,” he whispered against the boy’s skin, before repeating, “You’re gonna be okay.”

Craig leaned up to kiss him on the lips. When he didn’t pull away immediately Tweek kissed back, rubbing his thumbs soothingly along his boyfriend’s cheekbones. Full-on kissing wasn’t something they did as often as the townsfolk might have thought; they were new to the idea of full relationships and what they entailed, but then again that didn’t stop them from enjoying the fresh excitement surrounding the start of one.

And fuck, _this_ was definitely nice. No making out or groping because God knew neither of them would be ready for that for a long time: just simple, affectionate, reassuring kissing. Just enjoying the close contact, the proximity, the familiarity of each other.

More close lightning and more booming thunder was what broke them apart eventually, both of them jumping out of their skins in fright. Tweek giggled softly, placing one last quick kiss on Craig’s forehead before gathering him into his chest. He undid the towel around Craig’s still-damp hair so that he could wind his fingers and bury his face in it, taking comfort in the familiar smell. Craig, meanwhile, seemed more than happy to stay wrapped around Tweek’s waist and bury his own face in Tweek’s chest, a perfect reversal of their hug on the walk home.

When Stripe started squeaking from somewhere behind his back, Tweek swung an arm behind and searched around until he felt his soft fur in order to pick him up and place him by the boys’ heads on the pillow. The little guinea pig cuddled up against Craig’s head, nuzzling into his pitch-black hair before spinning around and settling down.

Things could not be better than in this moment, Tweek thought. He felt like he was floating, or dreaming, or both. It was his favourite weather on his favourite day of the week, he was cuddled up with his favourite person at said favourite person’s house, with their favourite animal. There was no warmth no quite like it, no greater sense of satisfaction or pure gentle delight at how everything had slotted together so well to create this perfect moment. 

It was no wonder when he eventually drifted off to sleep; he couldn’t help it with the warmth of his boyfriend and the softness of the duvet beneath them and the anarchic yet somehow soothing battering of the rain and rumble of the thunder. There were a lot of things he couldn’t help, but as his mind and body alike relaxed, he figured there was little that he needed to help right now.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope this made you feel something!! please feel free to leave kudos and a comment if it did :)
> 
> ( [reblog on tumblr!](https://fcldspar.tumblr.com/post/177600698039/new-fic-elementalist) )


End file.
